I Have Come Not To Praise Jackson Wainscott
by Red Witch
Summary: When one of Mallory's backers dies, the gang heads off to a high society funeral. Mallory hopes her reputation doesn't get buried as well.


**Krieger took off with the disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters. Among other things. Just some more madness that entered my tiny mind. Like what would happen if the Archer gang went to a high society funeral? Well….**

 **I Have Come Not To Praise Jackson Wainscott …**

"Everyone come in," Mallory told her staff. "I'm afraid I have some bad news to share with you."

"Please tell me Burt Reynolds isn't dead," Archer groaned. "And he died after you…EWWWW!"

"No!" Mallory snapped. "You know Burt won't take my calls anymore."

"Does it have to do with the CIA?" Lana asked. "They're dropping us! I **knew** it! I knew this wouldn't last! I knew we couldn't trust them!"

"No, it's not that," Mallory waved. "It's not CIA or mission related."

"Well then I can explain," Krieger spoke up nervously. "I was so sure I killed them all."

"Killed all of **what?** " Mallory snapped.

"Oh this isn't about…?" Krieger looked around. "Nothing…"

"I'm not going to ask," Mallory groaned. "Mostly because I can use the plausible deniability argument if the authorities arrive."

"It's nothing to do with the IRS is it?" Cyril asked nervously. "They figured out we cooked the books and didn't pay…"

"No, it's nothing to do with that," Mallory interrupted.

"Phew!" Cyril breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you and Ron getting a divorce?" Cheryl asked. "Because honestly we all saw that coming…"

"NO!" Mallory shouted. "Ron and I are perfectly happy!"

"Yeah right," Cheryl rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"Okay my turn to guess," Pam spoke up.

"No! No more guesses!" Mallory snapped. "Will you shut up and let me tell you already?"

"We will if you'd stop yelling at us," Lana folded her arms. "So what is it Mallory?"

"Jackson Wainscott has died," Mallory sighed. "Heart attack. Can you believe it? Then again the man never ate a vegetable in his life and used butter as a garnish for butter."

Everyone blinked. "Who the hell is Jackson Wainscott?" Archer asked.

"Who the…?" Mallory was stunned. "Sterling! Jackson Wainscott was one of New York's most prominent businessmen. He practically renovated half of New York after the Second World War! And he was one of my backers that helped me start this agency!"

"So…You slept with him?" Lana sighed.

"Oh don't look at me like that!" Mallory snapped. "He wasn't married at the time and in those days banks didn't exactly give out loans to women to buy their own houses, let alone a spy agency! I did what I had to do!"

"Was he a **real** businessman or a…" Ray made quotes. " _Businessman?_ "

"Mostly real," Mallory admitted. "Let's just say he eventually went legitimate after the war. He did what he had to do."

"Don't even want to know what he did," Lana groaned.

"He was a good man, and a backer of this agency!" Mallory snapped. "And we are all going to his funeral tomorrow morning as a show of solidarity! And respect. Got it?"

"All right! Field trip!" Krieger cheered.

"Is this going to be like Uncle Buddy's funeral?" Archer asked. "Where we had to sit in the back with you wearing a veil over your face and not giving our names? And when his family came over we had to run out the back door of the church?"

"No," Mallory waved.

"Or Uncle Fred's funeral where his wife threw us out," Archer asked. "After you slugged her?"

"No," Mallory waved. "Jackson was divorced. And all his ex-wives hated him."

"So did Uncle Rich's ex-wife," Archer spoke up. "But you still got into a shouting match with her at the wake!"

"She was an intolerant bitch!" Mallory said. "And no, it won't be like that. Most of his ex-wives are already dead. And the one that survived lives in California and won't be coming. Something about a real estate convention. Getting some kind of award and a gold jacket. Didn't really pay attention."

"Okay is it going to be like Uncle Mike's funeral where they had security escort…?" Archer went on.

"NO! We are actually invited this time!" Mallory snapped. "By his son!"

"And is it going to be like Uncle Bernie's funeral where…?" Archer began.

"Where you slept with his niece in the coat room? NO! Definitely not!" Mallory snapped.

"By the way, those guys weren't really my uncles," Archer explained to the group.

"We were kind of able to put that puzzle together," Cyril said drily.

"Wait there's a puzzle?" Cheryl blinked.

"The only reason I'm allowing you to come this time Sterling is that Jackson had no daughters and there are fewer possible targets for you to hit on than at a bankrupt firing range!" Mallory snapped. "So keep that penis holstered mister! I need you to be on your best possible behavior. Failing that. Second or third best."

Mallory looked at the group. "In fact all of you better be on your best behavior tomorrow! And keep your genitals in check! Unless…Well I don't know Jackson Jr. very well so maybe he might be interested in Cheryl. Or Lana. Or even Pam if he has weird tastes."

"Why would he be…?" Lana then figured it out. "Oh my God! You're going to hit up the family for cash aren't you?"

"Well we need to get money to fund this agency and since the CIA isn't dropping any more ten million dollar checks anytime soon…" Mallory sighed. "Don't look at me like that! Again even today not that many banks would take out loans for spy agencies. Or laundromats slash paper offices slash country music producing offices…"

Everyone looked at her. "I tried to get a loan during our Summer of Cocaine, Coups and Country Music by saying our agency was…well anything other than a spy agency," Mallory grumbled. "Damn credit score fascists ruined that plan before it got off the ground!"

"So until I know exactly what this Jackson Jr. is into…" Mallory sighed. "No one do anything until I give the word. So ladies be ready…And maybe you too Gillette. Again, not really sure. It could go either way."

"Oh this is going to be a fun afternoon," Lana groaned.

The next day…

"I can't believe he's gone," Mallory sniffed into a handkerchief. She was wearing black and sitting in the back of a limousine on the way to the funeral. "Jackson Wainscott was such a good man. A pillar of the community. And I know he would want you to carry on his legacy of helping America."

Mallory looked up. "How was that?"

"A little much," Archer grumbled as he drove the limo.

"Yeah his son wouldn't exactly be helping America as much as helping ourselves," Lana remarked as she sat next to Mallory. She was also wearing a short black dress.

"Hey I have to pull whatever strings I can to sell this so if patriotism works…" Mallory shrugged. "It worked with his father."

"So two questions…" Archer began.

"No, there won't be an open bar," Mallory said. "I checked."

"Okay then one question," Archer grumbled. "How come I have to drive the limo?"

"Because I need to appear like I don't need the money even though I do," Mallory sniffed. "And it cost too much as it is to rent the limo without adding on the extra expense of a driver. So if anyone asks, Sterling this is my car and I'm letting you drive it."

"And I'm sure no one would notice the rental plates on the back," Lana groaned.

"Would you prefer to ride with the others in Krieger's van?" Mallory asked. "The S.S. Probable Cause?"

"That's not the proper term you use for cars, Mother," Archer groaned. "Ships and boats yes. But not cars. Jesus, read a book on proper titles! And honestly it's kind of a toss-up."

"Oh who asked you?" Mallory snapped.

"You just did," Archer retorted.

"Damn it! That stupid van is too close! I told Krieger to follow at a discreet distance!" Mallory noticed in the window. "I don't want people thinking they're with us!"

"Well then why did you invite them in the **first place**?" Archer snapped.

"Because I needed to show Jackson Wainscott Jr. that his father was a respected patron of our agency!" Mallory snapped. "And this funeral is a somber and sober occasion for us!"

"Yeah, one little flaw in that plan…" Archer snorted.

Back in the Rush Van…

"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" Cyril, Ray and Cheryl cheered as Pam drank a whole gallon of malt liquor. They all were wearing black outfits and had a bottle of beer in their hands.

"Whoo! That's what I'm talkin' bout bitches!" Pam whooped as she finished.

"Isn't this a great day for a funeral?" Krieger grinned. He was also dressed in black and wore black sunglasses. Hard rock music was playing on his radio.

"Hey any day we get out of the office and get paid is a good day," Pam chuckled. "By the way when was the last time any of us got paid? I'm seriously asking."

Back in the limo…

"I'm seriously asking if hitting up the family for money during their grief is a good idea," Lana asked.

"Considering the state of things in our agency any idea is a relatively good one," Mallory told her. "Besides Jackson Jr. called me and said he wanted to discuss some financial deals at the repast. It's not like I just called him up and asked 'Hey Junior can we come to the funeral? I want to ask you if the old man left me money in his will'?"

"Do you think he did?" Archer asked.

"Possibly," Mallory sighed. "We were rather close for a time."

"Then how come I don't remember him?" Archer asked.

"Because you were away at boarding school," Mallory said.

"Which one?" Archer asked.

"The one I had to take you out of because the headmaster was filling your head with nonsense on how you were being emotionally abandoned and everything," Mallory scoffed. "He wanted me to send you to a psychiatrist."

"Really? You think that's the **worst** idea anyone ever had?" Lana asked.

"Oh ha, ha Lana…" Archer scoffed as he drove. "Again though, which one? A lot of them thought I needed some kind of therapy."

"Again not the worst idea…" Lana added.

"The one where there were no sports and you burned down the drama club theater," Mallory reminded him. "Remember? St. Augustine's?"

"More like St. Philistines…" Archer grumbled. "Now I remember. That was one of the worst schools you ever sent me to. No lacrosse and they made me take these macramé classes. Okay the fact that they had no grades was a plus but still…"

"Well obviously I didn't know that it was a secret hippie commune," Mallory snapped. "If you called and told me about their subversive ideology I would have yanked you out of there sooner instead of leaving you there for three months!"

"I didn't exactly have a phone number to reach you!" Archer shouted. "Why do you think I set that fire? It was a last resort!"

"Well it worked," Mallory admitted. "You did the right thing. I should have burned that place to the ground myself."

"And another piece of the puzzle falls into place," Lana groaned.

"I'm guessing the reason Ron isn't here is because he either doesn't know about this guy or…?" Archer began.

"He doesn't! And I'd like to keep it that way. Ron and I don't need to hash over every dead lover I ever had," Mallory grumbled. "If we did that I'd never get out of the house."

"So where does he think you are?" Lana asked.

"He's at work and I told him I was going to a friend's funeral," Mallory waved. "I told him about the backer part. I just didn't tell him the other things. I think he bought it."

"So I'm expected to lie to him when he calls?" Archer asked.

"When does Ron ever call **you?"** Mallory asked.

"He could! Someday!" Archer protested.

"Sterling the last thing I need is one of your self-centered tantrums!" Mallory snapped. "A man I knew has died! This is about me! Not you!"

"Again this explains so much…" Lana said. "Archer watch! Watch…"

BUMP!

"For the pothole…" Lana winced.

"I didn't see it!" Archer protested.

"How could you not see it? It was the size of Rhode Island!" Mallory barked.

"Next time you drive you.…" Archer grumbled as he parked the limo.

"You better not scratch this limo!" Mallory snapped. "The last thing I need is to pay for damages!"

"Nag, nag, nag…" Archer grumbled under his breath as he left the limo. He walked around but didn't let his mother or Lana out of the car.

"STERLING!" Mallory shouted.

"ARCHER!" Lana barked.

"WHAT?" Archer threw up his arms and shouted. "What is the door locked and you can't get **yourselves** out?"

"Lovely manners your son has," Lana grumbled as she opened the door. "Still think therapy is a bad idea?"

"Depends. Does this therapy involve electricity?" Mallory asked as they exited the car.

"Geeze what is your problem today?" Archer asked as they entered the foyer of the church with the other mourners.

"If only there was **one** ," Mallory grumbled. "And here comes some more…"

Pam, Cyril and Ray walked up to them. Krieger and Cheryl had gone off to the side talking and giggling as well as getting dirty looks from other mourners. "What is Cheryl so happy about?" Lana asked.

"And why do you all smell like a brewery?" Mallory wrinkled her nose.

"We had a few drinks in the van," Pam admitted.

"And then some," Ray smirked. "By the way, head's up. Cheryl smuggled in some of her extra groovy gummies."

"Oh great," Mallory grumbled. "Go keep an eye on her. Try to make sure she doesn't choke in a vat of wine or something. Normally I wouldn't mind but still…"

"I knew I should have rode with them," Archer grumbled as Ray and Cyril left. "Thanks a lot Mother! Another fun thing I missed because of you!"

"Here I sneaked you a flask," Pam gave him one.

"Thank you! At least **someone** around here is considerate!" Archer took a drink. "Good stuff!"

"Sterling!" Mallory snapped.

"What? It's a funeral. I'm grieving!" Archer quipped. "And besides all the women here look like they're not even under eighty so…"

"Well I'm so sorry there aren't any distraught little trollops for you to comfort!" Mallory hissed. "But this is about work so will you take this seriously for once?"

"You really want an honest answer to that?" Archer snorted as he and Pam left to mingle.

"Uhgggh…" Mallory groaned. "Lana…Please. I need to stay by at least one person with a sober brain cell. It's just…" She sniffed.

"You really loved him didn't you?" Lana asked.

"I did," Mallory sighed. "I really did. But it didn't work out. He was one of those traditionalists that thought a woman's place is in the home and all that crap. I was…Well…not. Then he met someone who fit his preconceptions of what a woman should be like and then he just…threw me aside."

"I'm sorry it didn't work out," Lana said.

"Actually it did," Mallory shrugged. "I never would have been happy married to him. And I got a lot of money from him over the years. And I helped him with one of his divorces so…And the sex was phenomenal."

"Okay now I'm just grossed out," Lana winced. "It's almost time to go in."

"WOW THESE GROOVY GUMMIES ARE OUT OF SIGHT!" Cheryl was heard laughing.

"You might want to pace yourself," Krieger warned.

"Where's the bathroom? I gotta take a whiz before the service!" Pam called out.

"Just try not to pee on the floor this time," Ray groaned.

"Geeze La Rue, you pee on one guy accidentally…" Pam grumbled. "It's not like I'm Cyril that always masturbates everywhere he goes."

"I DO NOT MASTRUBATE EVERYWHERE I GO!" Cyril yelled. "Uh…Hello."

"Hey are there any samples of this communion wine you guys have?" Archer asked loudly. "Anybody? Samples? Come on!"

"Let's sit as far away from **them** as possible," Mallory winced.

"Agreed…" Lana went in with Mallory.

Shortly after the funeral the cars were in the funeral procession…

"That was one of the more interesting funerals I've ever been too," Cyril groaned as he took a drink in the back of the van. "Krieger what possessed you to shout out and request 'Free Bird'?"

"I thought the singers were good and wanted to see their range," Krieger admitted as he drove. "Plus who doesn't like Free Bird?"

"You should have seen the look on Ms. Archer's face through the whole thing!" Pam snickered as she drank. "Boy was she pissed!"

"My personal favorite moment was when Jackson Jr. went up to give the eulogy, but Cheryl followed him up and shoved him aside," Ray snickered. "Then after accepting an imaginary academy award she told the entire church that Ms. Archer used to sleep with the deceased."

"That son and his wife looked like they were going to choke to death," Cyril snorted.

"Lucky…" Cheryl hiccupped as she ate more groovy gummies. She was sitting on a large rectangular box. "What's in the box?"

"Just some supplies I picked up. No biggie," Krieger waved his hand.

"I also found the sermons pretty interesting though," Ray added. "I had no idea that some of the apostles used to be fishermen. And one of them was named Paul. Learn something new every day."

"Again…You used to be a minister!" Cyril was exasperated.

"And again my church didn't cover the New Testament that much," Ray pointed out.

"I'm guessing the Bible wasn't read much in your church," Cyril remarked dryly.

"Not as much as VC Andrews," Ray admitted. "We always thought Petals in the Wind was the more informative of the trilogy."

"Me too!" Krieger said cheerfully.

"I have got to see this old church of yours one day before I die," Pam snorted as she took a drink.

"Which could be soon judging by how angry Ms. Archer is," Cyril groaned.

"She's really gonna be mad that we're right behind her in the funeral procession," Ray snorted.

"Yeah…" Krieger laughed. "Hey is it me or was everybody at that funeral besides us a bunch of downers?"

"Well someone they cared about died so…" Cyril said wryly.

"Well then let's liven things up by playing some music," Krieger fiddled with his stereo. "The Rush Van is fully equipped with a kick ass music system."

"No hard rock," Ray said. "I don't think the hearts of some of the mourners can take it."

"Don't worry. I got some feel good classics right in my mix CD," Krieger waved.

Meanwhile back in the limo…

"And there they are again," Mallory groaned as she rode in the limo with Lana and Archer. "Right behind me. Figures! It's bad enough they humiliated me at the funeral…"

"Yeah and they're probably having a lot more fun," Archer grumbled as he drove.

"You weren't exactly a big help to my image either!" Mallory snapped. "Why did you shout out a request for Free Bird after Krieger?"

"Who doesn't like Free Bird?" Archer asked. "Besides after Cheryl's little acceptance speech the vibe of the place was going straight downhill."

"It's a funeral Sterling! Not a rock and roll concert!" Mallory snapped. "And you asking the priest for some wine to drink was not appropriate!"

"Well who puts on a funeral without supplying wine?" Archer asked. "I'm just saying there better be some good stuff at this repast thing…"

"I'm not running a spy agency," Mallory groaned. "I'm running a frat house!"

Just then the song 'Louie Louie' was heard blaring behind her. Mallory groaned and pulled out a flask from her purse.

"Well if you can't beat 'em…" Mallory took a drink.

"Oh God…" Lana realized. "I do work in a frat house."

Soon they were at the cemetery. They stood in front of the open grave as the casket was lowered into the ground. The priest giving a somber prayer to fit the mood.

"Come on guys! Lighten up! It's a party!" Cheryl giggled as she staggered tipsily into the front of the crowd.

That's when Cheryl fell into the open grave.

"I've fallen and…I had something for this…" Cheryl moaned.

"Fill 'er up!" Mallory shouted as she turned around and started to leave. "Might as well make it a two for one!"

Move ahead to the repast…

"I'm amazed they actually let us in here after the way you all acted!" Mallory hissed to her subordinates. "I have never been so humiliated at a public event!"

"Yeah you have," Archer began. "Remember the time…"

"Shut up!" Mallory snapped. "I should have known better to bring you louts anywhere civilized! All right! Lana, Sterling and I will go have a word with Jackson Jr. while the rest of you…Try not to make bigger asses of yourselves than you already have!"

"Geeze somebody's cranky," Cheryl hiccupped.

"Who let you out of the grave?" Mallory snapped.

"Maybe Archer should move the limo first?" Lana suggested.

"I parked it in a safe spot," Archer groaned. "For the last time Lana…"

"It's on the sidewalk by a fire hydrant!" Lana protested.

"Well then we'll know where it is," Archer waved. "Now where's the bar?"

"Get me a Tom Collins," Mallory groaned. "Lana maybe you and I should just go talk to the Wainscotts for now?"

"Why not?" Lana sighed as they left the group. They went over to where a couple in their late forties to early fifties were standing.

Jackson Wainscott Jr. was rather portly, balding, had a round bulbous nose and looked far older than his age. He was dressed in an expensive black suit. His wife was a thin, birdlike woman with a beaklike nose with done up faded blond hair. She was wearing a sensible but elegant black dress.

"God he looks just like his father," Mallory admitted. "And his wife almost exactly like the bitch he left me for. I guess the candy coated apple really doesn't fall far from the roasted pig's mouth."

"And there's another wonderful mental image for me to repress," Lana sighed.

Mallory put on her most charming tone. "Jackson Wainscott Jr.! It's been years since I last saw you! You look as handsome as your father! And you must be…?"

"Mrs. Wainscott to you," The woman said in an icy tone.

"Now, Dolores. Mrs. Archer is an old family friend," Wainscott said warmly.

"Your father had a lot of old _family friends_ ," Mrs. Wainscott sniffed.

"Well most of them aren't **here** now, are they?" Wainscott said in a stiff tone to his wife. He smiled warmly at Mallory. "It is good that you've come."

"I had to pay my respects. Your father was a wonderful man beloved by all…" Mallory said in a sympathetic tone that made Lana impressed at her acting skills. "His passing was a great tragedy."

"Unfortunately his funeral has become an even greater **farce!** " Mrs. Wainscott bristled. "Who allowed those…those uncouth **barbarians** into the church? And why are they even **here?** "

"Keep the drinks coming bitches!" Pam shouted loudly. "What do you mean I gotta pay? What kind of rip off is this?"

"I have no idea who most of those people are," Mallory said boldly. "I think they're friends of Cheryl Tunt. She's a socialite who probably met your father for some business reason or something. Yes, they're **her** friends."

"Doesn't she also associate with **you?** " Mrs. Wainscott gave Mallory a critical look. "Quite a lot actually?"

"Is that common knowledge?" Mallory asked.

"Yes," Mrs. Wainscott said sharply.

"Damn," Mallory grumbled. "Well she didn't come with me. I have no control over her social life."

"Someone should," Lana quipped. "Preferably a court appointed attorney."

"And **you** are?" Mrs. Wainscott raised an eyebrow.

"Lana Kane," Lana introduced herself. "I work with Mallory Archer."

" **For** Mallory Archer," Mallory corrected. "Lana is one of my agents."

"I see," Mrs. Wainscott gave a critical eye to Lana. "Oh I know who you are. You're one of the women Sterling impregnated aren't you?"

"Technically it was more of a donor thing…." Lana gulped. "But yes."

"How do you know about…?" Mallory asked. "Wait…Aren't you on the board of the Women's League?"

"Yes I am," Mrs. Wainscott nodded.

"Damn that Trudy Beekman," Mallory growled.

"Is this one a prostitute like the other one or does she have a **real job**?" Mrs. Wainscott asked.

"HEY!" Lana protested.

"Dolores! Please!" Wainscott protested. "I'm sure Ms. Kane isn't…that sort of woman."

"Ha! I mean no, no…" Mallory caught herself. "She's not a prostitute. She's one of my best agents."

"And what exactly do you **do** again?" Mrs. Wainscott asked. "What kind of agent are you?"

"Real estate!" Lana said quickly.

"Travel," Mallory said at the same time.

They both realized what they said. "Travel! Real estate!" They said switching each other's terms.

"Lana runs the Travel Real Estate office in my company," Mallory said quickly. "It's a high end travel service that rents out exclusive properties in exotic locations for exclusive clientele. That's why we travel all over the world. Looking for the perfect properties. Why we have properties in Miami. The Pacific. Europe. Lana just recently scouted out some lovely chateaus in the Alps…"

"Don't forget the cocaine fields of San Marcos," Archer walked up to them carrying two drinks. "What are we talking about again?"

"Ha, ha…That's my Sterling. What a weird sense of **humor,** " Mallory glared at him as she snatched her drink from him. "I was explaining that one of our new services in our office is providing clients with luxury homes for them to stay in when they travel."

"Since when?" Archer asked. Lana elbowed him. "OW! Lana! You almost made me spill my drink!"

"And wouldn't that be a **tragedy**!" Mallory growled as she took a drink.

"Especially since I had to pay for your drink!" Archer grumbled as he finished his drink. "What kind of cheapskates make people pay for drinks at a funeral repast? It's so…"

"So nice to meet the Wainscotts," Lana said quickly. "Whose **father** just **died!** "

"Oh," Archer caught on. "Well at least the buffet is free. And Pam is getting some doggie bags to take home so…"

"Why don't we go somewhere more private to talk?" Mallory said quickly.

"Yes!" Wainscott said quickly. "I do feel there's some business we need to discuss that can't wait. About certain financial matters."

"Yes. Financial matters that can't wait," Mallory added.

"Hey Pam! How many shrimp can you stuff into your mouth?" Cheryl was heard shouting.

"Let's find out. As long as it ain't the soy crap…" Pam called out. "Ah who am I kidding? I'd eat it too. There's an epi-pen in this joint right?"

"Let's go somewhere private **right now**!" Mallory affirmed.

Soon they were in a small private room. "Well I don't know how to say this…" Wainscott coughed.

"Take your time," Mallory said softly. "Your father was a dear friend of mine. And a great supporter of my agency. He gave me money to start it years ago."

"I am aware of that…" Wainscott said. "Which is why…I need to ask for a return on his investment."

"And I'm sure that he'd be happy to know that the money he left will be put to…" Mallory began. " **What** did you just say?"

"I was saying that due to certain financial changes and…uh…" Wainscott coughed.

"We need you to pay back as much of the money his deadbeat father loaned you!" Mrs. Wainscott huffed.

"Dolores!" Wainscott gasped.

"There's no point in being delicate! Not with these people!" Mrs. Wainscott snapped.

"What do you mean you need to repay the loan?" Archer asked. "Mother said it was a gift."

"Oh I'll bet she did," Mrs. Wainscott sniffed. "But no…It wasn't. And due to our current financial crisis we are calling in all his debts."

"But your father was a wealthy billionaire!" Mallory protested.

"The key word is **was** a wealthy billionaire," Wainscott explained. "Due to my father's expensive and lavish lifestyle as well as alimony payments and some bad investments…I'm afraid my father died right before they declared him bankrupt. I have to sell the mansion and several of his properties just to pay his taxes and creditors. So I thought why not ask some of his former…uh…associates…"

"Whores," Mrs. Wainscott sniffed.

"Hey!" Mallory protested.

"I call them as I see them," Mrs. Wainscott sniffed. "And let's face it Ms. Archer your reputation isn't exactly one of a vestal virgin. Everyone knows you're the biggest tramp since Emmet Kelly came to town."

"Now listen here you…" Mallory began.

"So you invited us all to a funeral to hit us up for money?" Archer scoffed. "And we only came to this funeral to hit **you** up for money! That's funny!"

"What?" The Wainscotts said as one.

"Are you telling me you're **broke?** " Mrs. Wainscott asked.

"Ehhh…." Mallory began.

"But you're friends with Cheryl Tunt the billionaire!" Mrs. Wainscott snapped. "Surely she can loan you…?"

"Cheryl wouldn't loan Mother any money. She's an employee who Mother pays," Archer scoffed. "Well technically she hasn't paid in a while…"

"Seriously?" Mrs. Wainscott blinked.

"Don't ask…" Mallory groaned. "So bottom line is you're broke?"

"I wouldn't say broke but…" Wainscott frowned.

"But you're not in any position to give us any money!" Mallory put it together.

"Are you sure we didn't get anything in the will?" Archer asked.

"GET OUT!" Mrs. Wainscott shouted.

"GLADLY!" Mallory shouted back. "Who needs money from you losers anyway? And FYI…Your father may have been great in the bedroom…"

"Eww…" Archer and Wainscott winced.

"But he had lousy tastes in women!" Mallory shouted. "And from what I see right in front of me the family tradition **continues!** "

"What?" Mrs. Wainscott shrieked.

"Oh go lay an egg Chicken Beak!" Mallory snarled.

"SECURITY!" Mrs. Wainscott screamed.

Five minutes later…

"AND STAY OUT!" A beefy worker at the restaurant shouted as Mallory and the gang left the restaurant. He had a huge shiner on his face.

"We're going! We're going!" Pam snapped as she carried several bags. "And it's not my fault you're such a lightweight!"

"Or he tried to keep Pam from her doggy bags," Ray smirked.

"Don't **you** get any ideas Cy-baby!" Pam told him.

"Well this was a complete and total waste of my time!" Mallory bristled as they went to the parking lot. "For once Sterling I wish there was a woman for you to defile and hit on!"

"Technically that would be Mrs. Wainscott but no…Ewww…" Archer shuddered.

"Not only did I lose a backer and another source of income for my agency," Mallory bristled. "I have been humiliated, insulted…thrown out of **another** funeral dinner! Not to mention given more gossip fodder for that cow Trudy Beekman to chew on! Oh she's going to _love_ spreading **this** all over town! This day could not possibly get any worse!"

"Wanna bet?" Pam chuckled. "Isn't that your limo they're towing away?"

"I told you not to park there," Lana said in her best 'I told you so' voice as the tow truck disappeared with the limo down the street.

"Well there goes that deposit!" Mallory threw up her hands.

"Don't worry. There's still plenty of room in my van!" Krieger said cheerfully.

"Of course," Mallory groaned as she saw the Rush Van. "The perfect end to the perfect day in Hell!"

"I had a fun day!" Cheryl giggled. "I won an award."

"For the Biggest Whore-Diot That Ever Lived!" Mallory grumbled as they went inside the van. "Good God this piece of crap is even worse on the inside."

"And what the hell is in this…?" Archer opened up the rectangular box. "Box?"

"Oh no…" Ray blinked as he saw what was in it. "Well it's not a wine cooler."

"I know that **now** ," Archer groaned.

"What? What is…Oh you have got to be **kidding** me?" Lana barked. Everyone looked inside the box.

"How did you…?" Ray looked at Krieger in shock.

"Let's just say I did a switcheroo back at the church," Krieger explained.

"Krieger…" Mallory winced. "Please tell me that you did not just steal the corpse of Jackson Wainscott Sr."

"Uh I could but it would be a lie," Krieger blinked.

"Put it **back** …"Mallory clenched her teeth. "After dropping us off at the office I want you to go to the funeral home and put it back!"

"But…" Krieger began.

"PUT IT BACK!" Everyone shouted.

"Aw man," Krieger pouted.


End file.
